


I may be crazy, don't mind me

by IlluminanceinTales



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: #ITRIED, Drunk Victor Nikiforov, Established Relationship, First fanfic!, Innocent love, Jealous Victor Nikiforov, M/M, TBH I just yoloed this, kind of?, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlluminanceinTales/pseuds/IlluminanceinTales
Summary: Viktor doesn't want to come off as possessive — it's the last thing he wants. But the more he downs his champagne and the longer he sees Yuuri surrounded by strangers, he finds out that that's not exactly a good plan.





	I may be crazy, don't mind me

_Drunk_. It takes two — perhaps three —seconds for that fact to sink inside Viktor's head. He's drunk.

' _But I'm Russian,_ ' Viktor continues to argue with himself as he downs another glass of champagne. He's not sulking and he's certainly not feeling down. But one glance from the corner of his eye makes him revoke everything he's just thought.

Yuuri is in the middle of chattering with someone —  _someone who has more hair_  — as he beams with a smile that is perhaps illegal in this town. It makes a lot of alluring people turn their heads, all of which are trying to catch a glimpse of the Japanese man. And how could Viktor blame them? Yuuri is beautiful — perhaps even more beautiful than all the poodles Viktor had spotted earlier in a pet shop — and that's saying a lot.

At the moment, Yuuri is wearing a new suit that Viktor had strongly insisted Yuuri wore to the banquet. ' _It shows your figure!'_ Viktor had exclaimed. ' _Yuuri, you'll look wonderful!_ '

Apparently, he wasn't wrong. The black suit clings to Yuuri's figure like vice and folds in ways which is maybe a _teensy_ bit naughty to Viktor's eyes. But at the same time, it makes him look ethereal, like an angel, and it makes something flutter inside Viktor's chest. The Russian doesn't mind the outfit — he's absolutely okay with Yuuri wanting to showcase his body — but what he _does_ mind is the creeping hand that's beginning to curl upon Yuuri's shoulders, followed by a looming figure standing before Yuuri.

"Excuse me," the stranger asks. "But would you like to dance with me?"

The smile Yuuri gives the stranger makes Viktor almost hurl.

 _This is nothing_ , Viktor thinks gloomily as he makes a grab for the nth glass of champage. _You're going to be okay, Viktor. It's going to be fine._

But ten minutes into Yuuri dancing with the stranger and Viktor's already praying that he's not too drunk that he'd be unable to run out of the room.

"What the fuck," someone snarls behind him and Viktor tries to give a smile. He barely sees the disgusted expression on Yurio's face. Again, Yurio snarls in that condescending tone of his, "How much fucking champagne did you drink?"

"Just-" Viktor squints over the dozens of glasses before him. "-a pinch."

"A _pinch_?"

Viktor's eyes are still following Yuuri, whose dancing with another stranger now. "Yes."

Yurio gives himself a moment to put two and two together before he gives an audible barfing noise. 

"Disgusting," Yurio grunts, but Viktor doesn't respond. Instead, the Russian still continues to watch more and more people approach Yuuri, followed by more requests to dance and talk. The only reason why Viktor hasn't gone there and screamed yet is because of the fact that Yuuri deserves his freedom to talk with people. Yuuri deserves his trust. And if Viktor butts into Yuuri's conversation without at least an hour's break between them, then wouldn't that show him as possessive? As a person who couldn't bear to trust his lover with a few conversations, making Yuuri look vulnerable and dependent? Viktor doesn't want to come off that way. Viktor wants to be a lover who knows when to give space and when to not. 

So Viktor continues to brood, and nurses his drink. He's tired, and upset, and _what the heck is he going on about?_  

Viktor slams his head against the table.

Drunk. He's absolutely drunk. And he's got to get out of here before anyone catches a sight of his pitiful state. Apart from Yurio, of course.

But before he can even haul his legs to move, warm hands, gentle as butterflies, press against his shoulders. "Vitya?" a familiar voice echoes and Viktor found his knees buckling. 

In an instant, Viktor is wrapped in the arms of no one other than Yuuri Katsuki, whose brown eyes seem to burn and melt right into Viktor's icy cold soul. It makes some lonely part of Viktor purr in happiness and the Russian relishes in the temporary warmth. 

"I'm-" Viktor grins. "Really drunk."

Yuuri furrows his brows as if saying _I can tell_. "Let me help you back."

Immediately, Viktor exclaims a loud, " _No_!" and then, a quieter, "No. You can stay here. I'll go back myself."

"Vitya?" 

"I don't want to steal you all to myself," Viktor gives a lopsided grin and _fuck, fuck, fuck, what is he saying?_ "I don't want to look selfish and-" Hiccup. "-and look possessive. I want you to be happy and- and-" Viktor stumbles onto his feet. "I'll be going!"

Yuuri makes a grab for his arms. "Wait."

Viktor gives a crane of his neck. "What?" He must be having the most forced smile on his lips at the moment. "What, Yuuri? I said you can stay."

But before any of them could push out another word, there is a kiss. It sears and burns into Viktor's lips, licking like flames, exploding like fireworks. Instinctively, his cerulean eyes fly open no matter how drunk he is, while something sputters and stops inside his ribs. He's dead drunk. He has to be. This is a dream and he's so damn drunk.

Yuuri pulls away with a timid blush. 

"It's okay for you to be possessive, Viktor," he says. "I don't mind."

All the bad mood in Viktor vanishes instantly and suddenly, he's making a grab for Yuuri's hands and kisses the knuckles. "Love you," he confesses with another lopsided grin — and falls.

* * *

Viktor wakes up nursing the worst hangover in his life. The headache is like an endless pounding in his skull and Viktor gives out a deliberate moan while rolling on the bed. 

"Yuuri!" he wails out because he knows the Japanese is always in the hotel. "Yuuri, what happened?"

A black mop of hair pops from behind the bathroom door as Yuuri gives the most suspicious grin Viktor's ever seen. "Check your phone."

Viktor does and the first thing he sees is:

**_The power couple of ice skating caught kissing! A drunk Viktor Nikiforov passes out seconds later!_ **

The article is linked with a video, a hundred photos and a whopping thousands of likes. It takes ages for Viktor to scroll through them, but he stops himself when he stares at a glaring photo that snaps some memory inside his mind.

One would've expected that he stopped to look at the images of Yuuri kissing him, where his eyes are blown open and Yuuri's the one who's making a move, but no. The photo he's stopped at is at a photo where Yuuri's glancing at him as he dances with a stranger, his brown eyes full of strange hope. 

He saves the photo out of instinct.

"Viktor?" Yuuri calls out for him again. "Viktor, are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Viktor answers with a grin and shuffles himself off the bed. "Let's go out together, Yuuri!"

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic because #I tried. Also because these two are the biggest dorks alive and I'm dying at them.


End file.
